


Fuchsia Is The New Rust

by tripleParacosm



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Ashen Romance | Auspistice, Basically all four quadrants, Caliginous Romance | Kismesis, First fic here be gentle, Flushed Romance | Matesprits, M/M, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance, everyone loved it so I was like, share it with my people
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-10
Updated: 2014-10-01
Packaged: 2018-02-16 21:06:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2284470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tripleParacosm/pseuds/tripleParacosm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Flipped hemospectrum in which Aradia is the Heiress and Feferi is the lowest of the low. As in fuchsia is the new rust.</p>
<p>You remember how Karkat is so low he's lower than Aradia? Well, obviously, if the whole Hemospectrum is flipped and all lowbloods are highbloods, what does that make Karkat?</p>
<p>Get ready for a shitstorm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

You were disgusted by highbloods. They always thought the were so much more mighty than you STRONG lowbloods. The STRONGEST and lowest lowblood is a young seadweller named Feferi, and you are determined to have her on the throne.

 

You try your best for the other lowbloods to act proper. Always teaching them the cultured and civilized ways of doing things instead of how those rowdy highbloods do. For some reason the young juggalo never listens and you have pondered if it is even worth the trouble. Then he does something immensely stupid that makes you all but wonder why lowbloods are considered civilized in the first place.

 

You've been doing your research about highblood culture, and they're practically known for being the calmer half of the spectrum. It's ridiculous. Just because your half of the spectrum has a temper does not mean it should be treated as lower. But at the same time you must know your place. Those lower than you go through much more than you ever could and they deserve respect for their cheerfulness. Except the Makara boy. He needs an attitude change. And personality change. He really should start acting like a proper lowblood.

 

You've been sitting at your husktop for hours now. Your STRENGTH has forced you to change the keyboard. Twice. But anything is worth it as long as you have all the information you can possibly think of on the highbloods. Though you practically know everything now, pfft, you're a total expert.

 

Oh. Whoops.

 

Looks like you were wrong. "The True Highblood" you read out loud. Sounds interesting. You click it and wait for the information to follow. You aren't disappointed.

 

"Long ago, before her Imperial Archeologist took the thrown, there was a mishap in the brooding caverns. A rustblood and a, by then still not extinct, limeblood managed to fill a filial pail together and not get caught. Limebloods were only for harvesting sopor, of course. None should have been able to fill a pail. Much less with a rustblood a shade away from being an heir. But they did manage to give their little contribution to the drones to be taken to the mothergrub and mixed into the incestuous slurry of multiple alternian couples. The initial mix and then the second one with the incestuous slurry of genetic material managed to create a mutation in the resulting grub. A highblood so high it burned." You narrow your eyes. "A mutant highblood that was so high, he was off the spectrum." You sit back slightly and continue to read. "His skin was scalding hot just like the blood in his veins. The way he held himself was with vows and promises for equality between all temperatures of blood. And that is why he attempted to take over the empire." Now your eyes widen and you lean in closer to the screen, going so far as to take off your cracked shades, making sure you're reading this correctly. "He failed, of course. Sent to The Condesce and her troop to be culled before his entire clan of followers." You cover your mouth because you know very well who the executor of the Condesce's troop was. And just who is the heir to that legacy. "He was executed, but not before some final words. 'There will be another. And he will bring peace to this retched world. There will be equality and love and he will make sure of it' though some like to believe the actual final words were 'I am angry because I still forgive you'"

 

You rub the bridge of your nose, trying to source everything you just read but every link provided leads to an error page. And just when you give up and go back to the page with the information, your husktop crashes. You stare in utter disbelief. What in the world? You JUST read that article. How can it no longer be there? You try getting it back by refreshing multiple times, but you can't. Nothing works. So what you do is that once your husktop is up and running, you quickly type down what you can remember of the article. Which is most of it, you pride yourself on your amazing memory.

 

The True Highblood. Seems you have a new target.

 

There will be another. You wonder if any of this is really true, but doubting it just might make you ruin the legacy you were meant to follow.

 

You are the heir to Executioner Darkleer's scum blood legacy, and you will do everything in your power to live up to it. Even if it means adopting a title as unbecoming as 'Knight' .

 

Your name is Equius Zahhak. And you will kill the mutant prince.

 

Equius: Be the rightful prince==>


	2. The rightful Prince

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You should have known better. But it isn't a surprise all the evidence flew over your head. You are pretty short. It's not that hard.

Equius: Be the rightful prince==>

 

 

You're the rightful prince, and you don't know that.

 

You've been hiding your mutation all your life, because lowbloods hate you and so do highbloods. At least they would. If they knew.

 

You're lucky. The followers of your ancestor genetically engineered a lusus just for you. Though you wouldn't know that. You know nothing of your ancestor. You don't know if that's a good thing.

 

You spend your days practicing with your sickle and eating whatever your lusus brings back to the hive. Since you aren't allowed to leave, of course. You never knew why but you think better of going against your lusus' wishes. Might get yourself killed if you so much as get a paper cut in public.

 

You once again sit at your husktop, talking to some online friends and trying to find information on your bloodline. Though you don't expect to find anything, you never do. All you know is that you're a mutant. That's all you've found.

 

Except for today. This is new. "The True Highblood" ...

 

Oh shit. Oh no. Nononononono.

 

You stand quickly, almost knocking you desk chair over and hold your head in your hands.

 

Oh god. This can't be real.

 

You look at the door just as Crabdad scuttles in, dragging some bags with him. You stomp over, sickle in hand and hiss, "We need to talk."

 

He drops what he had, and if he had an eyebrow, he'd raise it. He motions with his claw for you to speak and you do. "That" you say, pointing to your husktop. He follows your gaze and walks over, leaning in to get a good look of the screen.

 

You feel more than you see the way his exoskeleton seizes and locks like a badly oiled robot husk. "What's that?" You growl and he turn to you slowly, eyes cast downward as he tries to explain himself in clicks and chirps that you long learned how to decipher.

 

"I'm sorry, Kitten. They told me to never tell the Prince what he was and when I finally find you I- I followed to rule." He chirps and you huff, looking down.

 

This was a lot to process.

 

"There will be another. " Are you really the next prince? You think so. And if that's true, then it's about time you take your thrown. You don't have to live in fear. And neither will your moirail or any of your friends. You will fix this world. You will live and die for it.

 

But first you need to find out what your ancestor did wrong, so you can avoid it.

 

Your name is Karkat Vantas, and you will become the king.

 

Karkat: Be the mysterious troll==>


	3. Karkat: Be the mysterious troll

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fucking up has been your thing since forever and you only know one guy who does it better than you. But right now, you seem to be coming first in that race.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My chapters vary from running along the asscrack of the earth's length to tiny Tim's fingernail so you guys need to bear with me, there is a reason for the inconsistency.

Karkat: Be the mysterious troll==>

 

You are now the very mysterious- Oh no.

 

Oh fuck.

 

That is NOT what was supposed to happen.

 

You give up on being mysterious and aloof as you quickly slam your hands on the keyboard and click away to check what happened. Oh fuck. More than one user has checked your article. Who the fuck besides your target would check for this? Oh god no.

 

The second user must be the prince. Holy fucking shit you found the prince.

 

You remember the self destruct you set on the page and curse it. You can't code fast enough to be on time when the page finally deletes itself along with all possible history of it. Fuck.

 

Fuck, you were so close.

 

Your name is Solluxanders (Sollux) Captor. And you've given up this utter bullshit about mystery considering how hard you fucked up.

 

Sollux: Be the unbecoming knight again==>


	4. WHY IS EVERYONE BUSY?==>

Sollux: Be the unbecoming knight again==>

You haven't yet finished working on your bots or on trying to find that article, and you think that'll be pretty boring for us, so we can't be you right now.

Fine then. Be the prince==>

The same goes for you. You're trying to find that article again but that obviously isn't happening so you have to deal with this situation.

Ugh. Fine! Be the other troll==>

Which one?

JESUS- The lowest of the low==>

You are now the lowest blood there is, and proud.

You don't really get bullied about it, and sure, rights aren't a thing you have, but you've never actually had a problem with it. Just above you is your moirail, and you have a few highblooded friends, so you don't have that much of a problem.

But your pal Eridan does have a problem. You turned into his moirail really to keep the highbloods safe from him, but you don't like him like that. You guess you can live with it.

He wants to get all landwelling highbloods off this planet so that way the lowest bloods are the only ones who live. And you don't want that. You have a matesprit to protect, after all.

Well, almost matesprit. You're working on it. But you don't want to come off pushy or desperate.

Thing is you're both those things. On the inside. No one needs to know about that.

Actually, you're kind of boring despite your bubbly attitude. Maybe that knight guy is done with his work.

Wait what? You didn't even get to tell us your name!

Tough shit==>


	5. Maybe... ==>

Tough shit==>

Whoever you are, you are now the sweaty knight sir sweatsalot.

You'd be mad at that if you weren't already pissed off.

What the fuck why can't you do anything right you cannot believe you're so fucking useless fuck this shit fuck everything fuck you fuck us fuck me

Who's me?

You don't know but FUCK THEM ANYWAY.

Okay calm down. Tell us all your problems. This is an intervention.

Okay so at first you couldn't find the article and you can't find any sightings of the prince online and- why are you telling us this?

We're just some creepy voice in your head telling you what to do.

Exactly, so keep doing it jerkwad.

You know what? You aren't even going to fight it anymore.

You give a sigh and just hold your head in your hands. Where do you start?

Sometimes, not even your moirail can help. Sometimes all you need is a stranger.

Maybe...

Just let it all out, it's okay. Besides the fact it furthers our story, it also gives you a chance to just breathe, breathe and probably cry.

You sigh and give in.

You've lived your whole life socially and morally pushed under highbloods whom you do not respect or care for the way you respect those lower than you. You've spent your entire life trying to flip the entire hemospectrum. And now you've found an article which destroys the plan you've been concocting since you first understood what you had to do to further the greatness of your species.

And now that's gone. Now you have to think something up again. You're having a really hard time dealing with all this. You've destroyed ten prototypes that you remember being extremely proud of.

But forget it, forget it all. Now you need to create an entirely different plan.

What are you supposed to do?

Prick everyone's finger until you feel blood so warm it burns?

You're sure that'd be highly inappropriate.

Check everyone's temperature?

... Ew.

You won't go into detail on *that* one.

How are you supposed to fulfill your destiny now?

... Maybe you just shouldn't?

No! That is totally out of the question! You refuse to give up until the lowest blood is on the throne!

Ever ask yourself why you wanted that?

Of course you have. You... You don't quite know yet. 

Wanting something and needing something are two very different things.

"Oh shut up!"

"Equihiss?"

Oh fiddlesticks ==>


End file.
